


mr loverman

by halloweensocks



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-28
Updated: 2020-07-28
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:34:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25573660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halloweensocks/pseuds/halloweensocks
Summary: a song-fic based off the song mr loverman by ricky montgomery.tw// drug abuse, mentions of drug abuse, mentions of drug addiction, mentions of kidnapping.
Relationships: Spencer Reid/Reader
Comments: 1
Kudos: 39





	mr loverman

_i’m headed straight for the floor_

“why the hell were you at a motel?” he grilled you from the minute you walked in.

“how did you- garcia?” you closed the door, stepping out of your shoes.

his silence only confirmed it. 

“you called garcia and told her to check my location?” you were furious, you threw your bag on the floor. 

_the alcohol’s served it’s course._

“well what else was i supposed to do? you were with another man! late at night!”  
his anger seemed to match yours.

you weren’t sure if you detected a hint of jealousy or insecurity.

you wrongly assumed it was the former. 

_and it’s headed straight for my skin._

“you could’ve fucking called me! and asked me where i was and what i was doing!” you screamed back.

_leaving me daft, and dim._

“why the fuck were you at a fucking motel?” he asked again. 

“because i was dropping him off to his room? what the fuck did you think i was doing spencer?” it clicked in your head and you took a shuddering breath

“did you think i was having sex with him?” your anger had subsided to a calm. that was never good.

“you were at a motel, it’s late at night and you’re with a guy from your past that i don’t know and you wouldn’t let me come with!” his hands were shaking and he was incredibly close to your face.

it was almost sexy, really. if he wasn’t being so bitchy. 

_i’ve got this shake in my legs._

“wow spencer. to think that i’m whore enough to go and fuck someone else when i’m in a fucking relationship.” your eyes clouded with tears but you blinked them back.

 _shaking the thoughts from my head._

spencer was silent. his hands fiddled with something in his pocket. most likely his phone or his sobriety pin. 

“you know you thought the same thing with derek. i went to the fucking gym with him! he helped me pass my fucking firearms test! you bothered me so much so that i had to stop hanging out with our fucking coworker!” a single tear escaped and you swiped at it angrily.

“news flash spencer, i can have friends. and oh by the way, joseph is gay. he’s a old friend from college that i always hung out with because he accepted me when other kids at college wouldn’t. because i was the weird criminology kid. i accepted him when his parents disowned him for being gay.” you spoke slowly, trying not to cry with the lump in your throat.

“wait (y/n), i’m sorry- please- i didn’t - i didn’t know.” his voice cracked and you almost felt pity for him.

almost. 

“i don’t want to hear it spencer.” you sighed.

“please-“ he begged.

_but who put these waves in the door?_

you walked away, heading to your shared room. you packed your bags, your hand shaking as you dialed emily’s number so she could come pick you up.

you couldn’t deal with him right now. this is the second time he’s accused you of cheating. makes you wonder what he’s hiding, doesn’t it? 

_i’m cracking out._

you shoved some work clothes and your necessities in a bag. the house was silent, meaning spencer went to the bathroom or he left. 

you’d hoped it was the latter. 

_i pour._

emily comforted you as you cried all night. you loved spencer, you truly did. but the lack of communication between the two of you made you want to rip your hairs out. 

_i’m mr loverman._

the weeks passed and you stayed with emily. she’d let you borrow her clothes for a few, and then when derek had taken spencer out, you and her would sneak into your old apartment and get more clothes. 

_and i miss my lover, man._

spencer noticed of course. he noticed when your mother’s necklace disappeared from the dresser in the room. he noticed when your shoes slowly went missing as well.

your shampoo’s and conditioner’s. your clothes. your makeup. 

_i’m mr loverman._

and then finally. the promise ring he’d got you. 

lain out on the dresser with no note next to it.

it pained him the most to see that there. you never took that off. ever.

_oh and i miss my lover._

it hurt you to leave the ring. but that was your last thing tying you to spencer and you really didn’t want to keep it. 

you knew it would hurt him to see it there. and, sadistically, you found some sort of joy in that. 

_the ways in which you talk to me, have me wishing i were gone._

the reality of the situation didn’t truly hit spencer until the two of you were on a case. 

you’d had to ask him a question. you didn’t want to, but he was the only one left in the work room while everyone else was either at the crime scene or the victim’s house. 

“doctor reid, have you created a geographical sketch of the unsub’s territory yet?”

there it was. 

doctor reid. 

he shook his head, scared that if he spoke he’d cry. 

his name sounded so foreign coming from your mouth. he was only ever spence, or spencer. 

his hand gripped the lapel pin in his pocket. the only thing keeping him sane. 

he knew he fucked up.

_the ways in which you say my name, have me running on and on._

you’d attempted to avoid him at all costs. unless it was absolutely necessary. you’d made the situation clear to hotch, you were not to be paired with reid under any circumstances. 

it’s not like the team couldn’t see the rift between the two of you. it was painfully obvious.

the bau’s it couple. the ones that were supposed to last. 

they’d planned your wedding the minute you two announced you were dating. 

you wanted to spend your future with him. 

all shattered by one false accusation.

_oh i’m cramping up, i’m cramping up._

_and you’re cracking up, you’re cracking up._

the pure malice in your voice when you spoke to him made him want to disappear. 

but you went to emily’s house every night and cried. blamed yourself.

were you not giving him enough? did he think he wasn’t giving you enough? 

did he think he wasn’t enough?

what drove him to this? 

_i’m mr loverman._

the incident had happened way before you joined the bau. 

but you’d heard about it.

you woke up to the cold sweats when he had a nightmare about it.

you comforted him those nights. whispering in his ear that he was safe now. tobias hankel was dead. 

you’d saw the three years sober lapel on the dresser.

you knew what happened to him when he was kidnapped.

he was sober now. you have nothing to worry about he told you.

_and i miss my lover, man._

it wasn’t until he’d snapped on jj that emily had her suspicions.

she tried to tell you what she thought was happening but you shook it off. 

he promised. he promised. 

he promised he’d never touch a bottle of dilaudid a day in his life.

you refused to believe it, so you shook emily off and told her you didn’t wanna talk about him. 

_i’m mr loverman._

he didn’t want to.

he kept trying to dissuade himself.

he didn’t need it.

he was perfectly capable of handling his  
own emotions.

he didn’t need dilaudid.

_oh and i miss my lover._

his attempts to dissuade himself failed.

he found himself standing outside a local pharmacy, his sobriety lapel being flipped around in his hands. 

_i’m shattered now._

he did it.

the one thing he promised himself he wouldn’t.

_i’m spilling out._

he laid on the bathroom floor of the apartment you used to share, his arm bruising.

his problems faded away. 

_upon this linoleum ground._

he couldn’t think about it anymore. it was all his fault.

he told hotch he didn’t need the therapist.

but after the kidnapping he wasn’t really ever the same.

_i’m reeling in my brain again._

he was going through withdrawals. although it had been 3 years. 

he’d been moody and acted out.

he was insecure of himself. was he not enough? 

leading to his accusations.

that ruined your relationship.

the one thing that kept him going.

gone. 

_before it can get back to you._

night after night, he laid on the floor, watching the bathroom lights flickered as the familiar sting of the needle pressed into his vein. 

he sighed. his emotions were a mix of content and disgust. 

he shouldn’t be doing this.

_oh what am i supposed to do without you?_

it wasn’t until summertime. 3 months after you’d officially moved out, that you began to believe emily’s suspicions.

he never took of his sweater.

he never rolled up his sleeves.

he didn’t let anyone touch his bag. 

and most importantly, his eyes seemed far away.

spencer was normally like that.

lost in thought.

but this was a different kind.

this was a ‘i’m high as fuck right now’ kind of far away.

_i’m mr loverman._

it was late. you’d just come back from a case about kids. 

you’d finally moved into your own apartment about a block from emily’s, far away from spencer.

it felt good to not have to rely on anyone anymore.

the knocking came about an hour or so after you’d landed on the jet.

_and i miss my lover, man._

you picked yourself up off of the couch and trudged towards the door, not wanting to talk to anyone.

_i’m mr loverman._

there stood a teary eyed, snot nosed, pale faced spencer. with an empty bottle of dilaudid in his hand and his arm all bruised.

you stood there in shock for a moment, not knowing what to do.

“d-d-did you-“ you couldn’t even get the words out. 

“i’m so sorry (y/n). i’m so so sorry.” he wiped his face on the back of his sweater sleeve and pulled you into an embrace.

 _and i’ve missed my lover man._

“i poured it out.” he hoarsely whispered, the pain in his voice evident.

“i’m so stupid.” 

you cried into his shoulder, banging your hands on his back over and over.

and he let you. he deserved for you to hit him.

eventually you’d stopped. you both had sunk down onto the ground against the door of your apartment. 

you were both crying and blubbering, spencer trying to apologize and you just keeping quiet. 

“i relapsed, (y/n). i relapsed. i’m so so sorry. i’m so stupid.” he kept repeating into your hair as he cradled you. 

“that’s why i was so moody. i’m so sorry. please.” 

you pulled away, wiping your tears. his face looked dejected. 

then you wiped his.

_i’m mr loverman._

you grabbed his arm, your fingers tracing over the bumps where he’d injected the dilaudid.

his eyes scanned yours for any emotion and when he found one, he released a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

it was sympathy. love. 

“let’s get you cleaned up. then we can talk. and find you some help.” you whispered, standing up and grabbing his hand.

he took it.

_and i missed my lover._


End file.
